A Cure for Death
by morticianne
Summary: Jane Van Helsing seeks the services of Doctor Frankenstein, hoping to find a cure for the disease her late father obsessed over. Vanessa Ives becomes their test subject. VictorXOC, mild EthanXVan. Rated for adult content in later chapters.
1. Remittance

Victor sat, sharpening a charcoal pencil at his cramped desk. It had been a difficult past few months, and his work now consumed him entirely. Victor dropped his head into his hands, moaning in frustration. Things were much different now- much worse. His true friend, Vanessa, lie deep within a haze of catatonia, half in turn to her…condition, and half due to his medical intervention. While Vanessa's dearest friends were thankful she was alive, they were losing hope. Lily had gone, leaving Victor to mend his broken heart alone. Many days, he awoke in a daze, feeling as if he lived a tainted half-life. Vanessa had told him once that when mourning a lost love, some days would prove to be harder than others. Victor felt that most days were excruciating.

Suddenly, a knock on the door startled him from his stupor. He stood, striding towards the door and throwing it open. There, stood a peculiar looking woman in her mid twenties. "Yes?" he said, confused. Perhaps she was seeking medical treatment. "Doctor Frankenstein?" she asked. "Yes?" he answered again, a bit more agitated. "I believe you were a colleague of my father's. My name is Jane Van Helsing." She said. His mouth must have dropped open in shock. "Come in, Miss Van Helsing." He said, ushering her in quickly.

"Shall I make some tea?" he asked. "Yes. I've no preference." She said, looking around his shabby flat. "The nature of my home is due largely in turn to my dedication to my work." He said, defensive. "Yes, and it is because of your work that I am here today." She said. He felt her cold green eyes studying him, even though his back was turned to her. "I am a woman, as you can tell I presume, and I have certain… limitations placed on me. I cannot excel in my field as my male counterparts do, but in no means does that imply that I am uninformed or incapable. Now that my father is dead, I am the only living person with the knowledge of his studies. He had shared everything with me during his life, and now I will share with you. Sir Malcolm Murray has contacted me about your dear friend Miss Vanessa Ives. I am here to offer you assistance in place of my father." She said.

"My condolences about your father, by the way. He was an honorable man, and a scientist of merit. If you have brought his notes, I would be happy to look over them," Victor said. She let out a snort. "Doctor, I fear you misunderstand me. I am here to serve as your partner, not as your carrier pigeon. I will work with you to help Miss Ives." She said, insulted. Victor put up his hands in a surrender motion. "I assure you, Miss Van Helsing, I meant no disrespect. Will you please follow me to my laboratory? We shall take the tea up there," he said. She nodded curtly, following behind him as he led her up the stairs.

His lab was like a graveyard. Over half of his electrical equipment had been destroyed and thrown out. He found it necessary to eliminate the temptation to continue his experimentation. Now, he attempted to turn his focus towards chemistry, despite his lack of skill in the area. It was necessary, to cure Vanessa.

As for Lily's area, he had brought himself to dispose of all but the bed, and the curtains that separated it from the rest of the large attic room. Perhaps because a part of him still hoped she would return some day. "Doctor, this is an incredible laboratory," she said, peering around the cavernous room. Victor rubbed the back of his neck. "It gets the job done." He said, gesturing to the table and chairs. She sat, and he brought her the tea. "Thank you, doctor." She said, sipping it elegantly.

She was a beautiful woman in her own way, he thought. She was much different from Lily, with a beauty similar to Vanessa's. Her tongue was sharp, and her eyes calculating. Victor had never preferred stubborn women, but he could not ignore the fact that she was visually pleasing. She was well dressed, in an incredibly stylish brocade dress of navy blues and blacks. Her figure was quite nice as well, he thought. Her skin was pale, with pink cheeks that hinted at rouge. She had soft lips, and a button nose, which were an interesting contrast to the angled sharpness of her brow and the wicked jade of her eyes. Her raven hair curled in tendrils around her face, slipping loose from the intricate hairstyle she wore.

"After consulting with Sir Malcolm, I have become aware of Miss Ives' condition. Thusly, I have compiled a book for you of valuable information hand picked from my father's personal collection. He had never successfully cured the affliction, but based upon these reports, I believe he was getting close round the time of his death." She said, pushing the large envelope across the table towards him. "Additionally, I should require the history of Miss Ives' case, as well as your own personal notes, doctor." She said. "Of course," he said, rising from the table. While he valued Vanessa's life over his pride, he couldn't help but feel a bit cross that a woman was attempting to dominate him in his own field.

"Doctor Frankenstein?" she called. "Yes, miss?" he responded. "My father always spoke highly of you. He admired your work, sir. So much so that he left you 10,000 pounds in his will." Victor spun around excitedly. "Surely, you must be joking," he said. She shook her head, pushing a smaller envelope across the table. "Miss, I am in your gratitude," he said, in shock. "No, you are in the debt of my father. It was his greatest wish to see justice and triumph for his cause. Work with me, doctor, and we will cure this disease together, in the name of my father." She said. "Yes," he said, understandingly. He handed her the file he had used to catalog his notes on Vanessa's illness, smiling gently. He was in terrific spirits, and it showed. "Excellent." She said, quickly flipping through the pages. "Your handwriting is something to be appalled. Nonetheless, I shall find these useful. Might I take it with me?" she asked. He was in far too good of a mood to be upset by her comment; instead he nodded curtly. "Yes. And might I keep the professor's notes for reference? If you find the setting comfortable and suitable, we may work in my laboratory." He said. "A marvelous idea, Doctor. I fear, however, that I must leave now, for I must attempt to find lodgings before tonight's dinner gathering." She said, rising to her feet. "Ah. Sir Malcolm did not offer you a room at the Murray Estate?" he asked. "I value my space," she replied, with a hint of a grin on her face. "I shall see myself out. Good day, doctor." She said. "Good day, Miss Van Helsing." He said, nodding. She paused, however, on her way back towards the door. "Doctor, perhaps you could accompany me to the dinner tonight? London is unfamiliar to me entirely, and it seems preferable to be in the presence of a familiar individual," she said. "Of course."

After she left, Victor paced his flat, envelope held tightly in his balled fist. 10,000 pounds was a chance at a new beginning. Perhaps even passage to America, or the establishment of his own practice. He itched at his arms, hoping that his sobriety would hold now that he had money of his own.

At approximately seven, Victor heard another knock on his door. He knew it was his date for dinner, and he adjusted his neckerchief quickly in the mirror. She looked as if she had freshened up considerably, as her hair was in a different style, and she now sported a lush emerald green dress. "Miss Van Helsing," he greeted. "Doctor," she nodded in response. He felt, for the second time that day, her eyes traveling over him inquisitively, as if sizing him up. "Shall we be on our way?" he asked her. She took his arm, humming in response. He realized that this was the first time a female had touched him since Lily.

They descended the steps of the tenement, sidestepping vagrants and ailing individuals huddled for warmth. "Doctor, you are oddly out of place in this building," she observed, eyeing the poor souls. "Yes. Much like you, I value my space. I come from money, but I have squandered most of it in the name of scientific discovery." He said. "And where does your family hail from?" she asked, tight lipped. He felt as if she was interviewing him, attempting to discover his darkest secrets so that she could expose him or destroy him. "Lake district, miss. Our estate is in the country," he said. He saw a hint of a smile on her face, thinking it odd that he had not yet seen her form an expression that was not in apprehension. "My family as well. It is a miracle that our families have never previously met, doctor," she said. "My family keeps to themselves. My mother died long ago, altering the dynamic of the family," he said. "Tis a horrible thing to lose a parent. My condolences, doctor." Her leather-gloved hand tightened, squeezing his forearm a bit. "Thank you," he responded, opening the door of the tenement for her.

"Shall we walk? Or shall I call for a carriage?" he asked her. "I have been in a carriage for the majority of the day. I should think it nice to see London by foot, if you don't mind, doctor." She said. "Of course," he said, offering her his arm once more. They walked along the docks, taking in the smell of rotting fish and body odor. "The smell is dreadful, but one becomes accustomed to it with time." He told her. "I assume the entirety of London smells this way," she said. "You would not be incorrect," he told her, grinning slightly.

The walk to the Murray estate was short, and upon arrival, she turned to him before ascending the steps to the threshold. He saw a flicker of an unidentifiable emotion cross her face as she looked at him. "Doctor, I wanted to thank you for accompanying me tonight. It is sometimes… overwhelming…. Finding my way through the city." She said. He nodded curtly. "Of course. It is my duty to your father," he said. "Let us enter," she said, returning her attention to the door. Victor lifted the knocker, prompting Sembene to open the door. They entered the grand foyer, and she reclaimed her spot on Victor's arm. "Through the dining room," Sembene instructed, gesturing widely with his hand. They both thanked him, striding towards the dining room.

The room was ablaze with candles. Thin specks of rainbow light refracted onto the walls as the flames danced inside crystal holders. The table was spread with silverware for a feast, and Victor's eyes were wide as he took it all in. "Ah, the guest of honor," Sir Malcolm bellowed from his space at the head of the table. The other guests rose as well, in respect. "So glad that you could attend as well, doctor Frankenstein." He added. "Miss Van Helsing, your spot will be between me and Miss Hartdegan. Please," he gestured to her chair, pulling it out for her as she sat. "Such kindness I am not accustomed to, sir." She smiled, wasting no time in taking a sip of the champagne that was waiting at her place setting. Victor took his seat across from her, next to Ethan Chandler. The dinner guests greeted each other, before directing their attention back to sir Malcolm. "As you all know, Miss Van Helsing has made the arduous journey to London in order to hopefully develop a cure for the disease that consumes Vanessa. She will be working with Dr. Frankenstein in the laboratory to develop this cure," he said.

Jane let her eyes flicker around the table, taking in the appearances of the dinner guests. To her right was an exceedingly attractive woman with strawberry blond hair, cropped short. She wore men's clothing, but with an elegant flair that made it seem like a normal phenomenon. Next to her sat an older woman, smoking a black clove cigarette. She too had short hair, and a look of sharpness to her made up face. Across from the wrinkled woman was an incredibly handsome man, with soft brown hair and deep brown eyes. He wore a stylish vest, but had an exotic look about him. Finally, there was Victor. Her partner did clean up decently, she reckoned. Still, his face was creased with lines of worry, and his haircut did not suit the shape of his face. He may be a handsome man without the bruised bags under his eyes, and the tightness of his shoulders.

"How are you enjoying London so far, Miss Van Helsing?" Sir Malcolm asked her. She was tight lipped, thinking of a way to say what was on her mind without being rude. "It is crowded, and dirty. I think I should prefer to stay in the country after this trip, although the food is rather good." She said, grinning lightly. Murray laughed, eyes sparkling. "I respect a woman with a strong tongue." He said. Murray noticed Jane's eyes flickering about the table. "How rude of me to not make introductions! Miss Van Helsing, might I introduce miss Catriona Hartdegan, Doctor Florence Seward, and Mr. Ethan Chandler." He said, gesturing at everyone respectively. "Pleased to make your acquaintance," she smiled politely.

Jane knew that each individual seated at the table was to play a critical role in the recovery of Miss Ives. However, glancing around, she was unsure how a farm hand, a cross-dressing woman, and a chain smoking "doctor" would prove to be valuable assets to her.


	2. Enmity

**A/N: I am not a doctor. My knowledge of medicine comes from a. Google, b. me being a hypochondriac and checking web MD all the time, and c. my imagination. I am sorry if there are inconsistiencies in my writing with how actual bodies work.**

Additionally, there is some canon sexism that pains me to write, but Victor is a little prick of a character. Enjoy!

The following day, Jane found herself upon the threshold of the Murry household once again. She wore a sensible dress, and itched to begin her research. The previous night she had been forced to make small talk with the other guests at the dinner party, all the while her patient lie upstairs. It had been nearly excruciating for her. Today, she would see Miss Ives' condition with her own two eyes instead of reading about it on paper.

She was surprised when Doctor Frankenstein answered the door, as she had been expecting to see Sembene. "Doctor, how fortuitous it is to see you. I did not know that I should be expecting to meet you here," she said. The doctor opened the door wider, beckoning her in. "It seemed logical to attend, as my notes on Miss Ives may need further clarification," he said. She brushed past him, entering the grand foyer. "The subject was clear, doctor. The only clarification one would need regarding the notes would concern your handwriting," she said smugly. Her sarcastic tone stung, and he was far more offended than he knew he should be. "Ah, Miss Van Helsing," Sir Malcolm appeared on the stairs, greeting her. "Good day, Sir Malcolm" she greeted. "If you will follow me, I shall take you to Miss Ives," he said.

She ascended the stairs, with Victor following close behind. At the door, Sir Malcolm paused, as if preparing himself for a traumatic sight. He exhaled shakily. "I trust you know what to expect," he said, staring gravely into Jane's eyes. She nodded, yet felt a twinge of apprehension pull at her.

Vanessa's room smelled like death. Although sunlight poured through the wide windows, a heavy darkness clouded the room. The atmosphere reminded Jane of a morgue, rather than the bedroom of a young woman. Ethan Chandler sat in a wooden chair, holding the hand of the skeletal woman lying in the bed. His brow was creased with pain as he gazed upon her. Upon noticing their presence, however, he turned to look at them. "Good day, Miss Van Helsing, we have all been anxiously awaiting your return," he said, offering a small smile. "Good day, ," she returned, letting her eyes flicker to the place where Ethan's hand met Vanessa's. He dropped it quickly, standing. "I'll leave you. I should sleep," he laughed, pathetically. "You should, and I shall give the doctors some privacy," Sir Malcolm said, making his exit. Ethan exited the room as well, and Jane's heart ached. In his eyes had been pure love- a thing that she had never known.

Victor interrupted her thoughts. "I would introduce you two, but I'm afraid Miss Ives is a bit under the weather," he joked dryly. She let out a snort in response, approaching the bed to examine Vanessa. It was clear that the woman had been beautiful in her mortality. Now, she was a husk of herself, trapped in a demimonde. Her long black hair had begun to turn white and brittle at the roots. "I give her a daily dose of a mild sedative, as stated in my notes. She may not look it, but she is just as dangerous as any of her kind. However, her state is so weak, she manifests her anger through verbal attack. Additionally, she is in pain, so I decided it best to keep her this way." He said, taking a step forward so that they stood equidistant from the bed. Jane laid a hand on Vanessa's arm, lifting it from the bed. "Her musculature is different from any case I have seen," Jane was bewildered. She did not turn to look at Victor, for she could feel the tense arrogance wafting off of him from across the room. In fact, there were so many inconsistiencies presenting in Vanessa's symptoms, Jane wondered if this was even the same disease she had been hellbent on studying.

As if reading her mind, Victor appeared beside her. "You'll notice the slow progression of Miss Ives' symptoms, such as her hair, eyes, as well as her musculature. I believe it is because…she has never tasted human blood," Victor said. As if in shock, Jane faltered for a moment, dropping the charcoal pencil from between her shaky fingers. Victor scoffed, forgetting his manners as she bent to pick it up herself. Again, he chided her stubbornness and resented the fact that she demanded on working alongside of him, rather than just giving him her father's notes. Her presence was a hindrance to his progress, and he felt himself wasting time as he was forced to explain everything that he had been observing over the past few months to a woman with little formal medical training.

Jane straightened abruptly. "I-I'm sorry… the London air must not be agreeing with me," she murmured uncharacteristicly. In her eyes was a strange emotion that Victor could not place. Suddenly, just like a flicker, it was gone, and her strong will was back. "I applaud you doctor, I have never seen a case that has not fully progressed. If you will refer to my notes, I doccumented the rates of metamorphasis in a table, and on average, an individual averages a full transition in approximately twenty hours. Miss Ives has been in this state for…." She trailed off. "Months," he finished for her, crossing his arms over his chest. "There is hope, Doctor," she said, turning to pack up her belongings. "Come," she commanded, turning without a passing look behind her. "What?" he was in disbelief. "Come, Victor. To the laboratory? We musnt waste any time," she said. He watched her pack up her things before disappearing in a flury of grey skirts. Victor stood rooted to the spot, mouth agape. She perplexed him, but not in the way that a jigsaw puzzle would perplex a child. No, her aura resembled twisting labyrinth, which vexed him beyond consideration. He was angered, yet he knew he was forced to follow her grand exit, for she was on her way to his home- with, or without him.

Approximately an hour later, Victor found himself scowling as she rearranged his entire lab space. "I simply cannot comprehend how any sane individual could be able to complete a simple experiment in this abysmal squalor," she muttered, purposely loud enough for him to hear. "It is only squalor to you because you are unfamiliar with the system which I have created for my _own_ laboratory," he snarled back, having a difficult time holding his tongue. She rolled her eyes, thankful her back was turned to him. "Perhaps that may be so, but due to our circumstances, it is important for the laboratory to be comprehensive and simple to navigate for _both_ of us," she said, fingering a bottle of sulfur. "None of these are labled, Victor," she added. "I find no need to label things, for I know my _system_ well," he retorted, gripping the note in his pocket in a tight fist in order for him to stay grounded. He was forced to remind himself that his work with this insufferable creature was only out of respect to her father, and to duty to Vanessa. "My father always made use of labels," she said quietly. He chose to ignore her, striding over to the table where he usually took his meals. Perhaps, if he attempted to look busy, she would leave him alone. He untucked the book from beneath his arm, sitting down to appear deceptively unavailable.

"There," she said, closing the last cabinet and dusting her hands off dramatically. "I believe this shall be suitable! Now," she tied a white apron around her miniscule waist, sparing no time. "Come Victor, you must at least pretend to not despise me and my methods, for the life of your friend is at stake," his eyes bulged as he took in her blunt statement. He was glad she offered him no time to respond, for he was truly at a loss for words. Victor felt as if he was being mocked and belittled by this creature in his own home. He knew that working with Jane Van Helsing may help him save the life of Vanessa, but he felt that it may cost him his sanity in the process.


End file.
